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He had worked the earth, had waited patiently all winter. He covered Draco’s eyes with his hands and led him through the garden.

“There,” he whispered, and let go.

A sea of narcissi blooming like laughter, dipping in the warm wind of March. Draco stared. His fingers trembled.

Harry said, gently, “I know you miss her.”

Draco, still staring ahead, reached for his hand.

*

Written for @drarrymicrofic: laughter

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because im the devil who's searching for redemption

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Two AU’s that i love Soulmate au’s and Hanahaki au’s 

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Someone told him to be brave

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“I was always flirting with you.” “What? When did that ever happen?” “I mean, I looked at you… And sometimes you looked back.” This is from a prompt I saw on tumblr.

Shdksjsjdjdjsje first of all this is how I flirt and it’s perfectly legitimate 😂😂😂 wc: 724

“Draco… that’s not flirting. You looked at everyone we went to school with.”

“No, I didn’t! Everyone else was just… in the way of my eyes! I looked at you.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to hold in his laughter. “Alright, let’s pretend that’s true.”

“It is,” Draco retorted, pouting. His ice cream cone was melting in his hand, forgotten in the heat of his rubbish argument. Harry watched a violet drop slide down the cone towards his pale fingers.

“Fine, you devilish Casanova,” Harry purred, smirking. “What was going through your head while you flirted with thirteen-year-old Harry Potter?”

“The vehement notion that I hated your fucking guts, and—”

“There it is,” Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“—And the unfortunate truth that I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” Draco finished.

Harry stared at him, dumbstruck. The drop of blackberry cream slid down the back of Draco’s hand; he didn’t seem to notice, too busy piercing Harry with those intense, fiery silver eyes.

Like he was serious.

“Pull the other one,” Harry said weakly. Draco’s brows drew down, his frown deepening.

“I don’t understand what about this is so hard to believe,” he muttered. Harry—ice cream long finished—threw his hands up in vexation.

“You hated me, Draco. You’re trying to tell me you were flirting with me the whole time, by looking at me while thinking about how much you hated me?” Harry huffed. He couldn’t tell if he was more amused or perplexed or defensive or annoyed. “What kind of fond, affectionate thoughts were going through your head, whenever you took your flirting to the next level and punched me in the face?”

“The stupid, frequently recurring ones where I thought I might die if I didn’t just touch you,” Draco growled, hackles raised. “The pathetic ones where I was desperate to see your face up close, after every summer, to find all the new freckles on your cheeks from long hours in the sun, and to learn how much taller you’d gotten while I wasn’t watching. The idiotic ones where any time you looked back, when your eyes looked for me in the Great Hall instead of your legions of admirers, I felt like my fucking soul was on fire.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. The ice cream cone was now crushed in Draco’s fist, spilling over his hand. He still didn’t notice.

He looked furious.

“You really are an idiot,” Draco said, his voice low and threatening. “There was not a single person at that bloody school I watched half as much as you, of course I was flirting with you—”

“Draco, that’s not flirting,” Harry argued again, finding his speech in the reliable space of antagonism. “Flirting is actions and words—”

“When it’s convenient, you arsehole,” Draco snarled, standing abruptly, the flimsy plastic chair scraping across the tile floor. He dropped the ruined cone onto the table, pointing a shaking, purple-cream-covered finger at Harry. “How nice for you, that you’re so familiar with open admiration, you can’t fathom ever needing to hide it. Bully for you, Potter, that you never had such trivial problems as a crush, especially not a crush that would turn your whole family against you, that would get you disowned faster than you could say your own name, that would get you and your loved ones killed if the live-in Master Legilimens caught the faintest whiff of it. How bloody delightful it must have been to know open, honest romantic interest, to not have had to resort to such petty and pitiful measures when your desire spilled out of you, when it was the only way I knew how to be around you and survive it.”

Harry sat, stunned, gaping at Draco’s flushed, angry, pretty face. To Harry’s horror, a tear fell down Draco’s cheek, and Draco blinked, surprised, then turned on his heel and stormed out of the shop. The bell jingled over the door as it swung shut, throwing the entire ice cream parlor into a tense, shocked silence.

“Shit,” Harry breathed.

“Fuck are you doing, mate?” Mr. Fortescue called, turning the attention of Harry and the nosy patrons. “Get after him!”

Harry jumped up out of his seat, vanished the ice cream mess, and ran out the door, frantically calling Draco’s name. The patrons followed eagerly, like a flock of hungry geese.

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You are the greatest gift of my life, my little Draco

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Happy Pride my lovelies! 🌈

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a delicate smooch

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It’s hard work being an Official Ministry Mail Man Owl Wrangler.

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So like your ficlets destroy me EVERY time they cross my dash. DESTROY. In the best way. They're gorgeous. So here I am, asking for more destruction, apparently?? For the way you said "I love you" game--nr 18, from very far away? ❤️

WOWOWOW Thank you!!! I’m so glad you like them!!! They’re really fun to do and I like trying new things with them, so really bless yall for sending prompts

18. From very far away 

Draco had been away from England for three weeks, and Rome for two weeks when he stepped foot on Capri Island. He knew he should contact Pansy first, but he hadn’t found a payphone yet, and the magical office at Rome told Draco that none of the Capri residences were magic; uses of magic should be limited or preferably not at all. Draco privately thanked this little miracle, no owls, Floos, Apparition or Patronus was allowed! That way Pansy couldn’t be able to tell where he was from his magic, and she won’t be able to show up at his doorstep like in Rome. Draco was just relieved that she didn’t go as far as telling his location to Harry, or any of his cronies.

Keep reading

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My love for you endures from summer to spring

The Drarry discord drawble challenge prompt for April was “Spring” and the restriction was anime/manga. Teii, Phe and I hosted the drawble, babble and drabble challenge respectively, and we had some absolutely amazing submissions this month!

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Can you do Draco 3D please?

Sassy bitch

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Gentle touch…

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Part 1 of my little birthday gift for @eva-eleanore who requested creature Drarry. Happy birthday, my love! 💕

Meet 90s vampire!Draco. Thirsty not only for Harry's blood.

Part 2 - jock!Harry

See both on AO3

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Ginny bringing her goth gf to muggle shopping 🛍️

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SCHEDULE

Prompting Opens: April 16th

Prompting Closes: May 7th

Claiming Opens: May 9th

Claiming Closes: July 31st

Submissions Due: August 15th

Posting Begins: September 6th

Author Reveals: TBA We commissioned our fest banner from @artdecielle​ (kofi) Please do not steal this art or repost on any other platform. Thank you!

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Spot On!

superfluff for @gnarf - a part of Gnarf Season 3 birthday collection

based on this bugs & daffy compilation

* * *

Harry stands in the eighth-years’ common room, awaiting Draco’s arrival.

Draco’s late, because of course.

This is, in fact, a daily occurrence. Assemble at the selected time. Mill around waiting on Draco to make his Grand Entrance. Send Pansy’s Patronus to yell at Draco to get a bloody move on already, you great ponce. Bask in Draco’s presence once he arrives, perfectly put together.

There used to be small fanfare when he showed up, a funny little charm Draco incanted, but the inevitable hexing—from Ron, Greg, and Harry, just that one time—had put that to a quick end.

Pansy’s hyena returns to the common room full gallop. It circles the perimeter, passes Harry propped against the wall, and stops at the couch to nudge Hermione’s hand.

Hermione closes her book with an exaggerated sigh. “For heaven’s sake, Harry, would you just go get him already!”

Harry shakes his head. “I’m not risking my eyebrows again. They’ve only just grown back.”

“He’s your roommate!” Pansy huffs into her crossed arms. “And the tables are already set with supper!”

“It’s roast pork tonight,” Greg says wistfully.

“With potatoes and pumpkin pasties,” Ron adds. His stomach growls, and he looks at Harry with big doe eyes.

Harry sighs. “Fine, but you owe me a dozen chocolate frogs, yeah?”

* * *

Harry knocks on the bathroom door in their shared room.

“Come out, Draco. Ron and Greg will eat all the pasties.” He protects his eyebrows with his hands.

The door slams open. Harry peeks through his fingers, and his heart plunges to his knees. Draco’s wearing his Quidditch jersey, and it’s cute as fuck.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Draco says.

Harry’s heart rockets up into his throat. Did he say that out loud? He schools his face into what he hopes is a neutral expression, one that doesn’t broadcast his ridiculous crush. “Tell you what?”

“I have a spot on my forehead.” Draco frowns.

“I didn’t notice a spot.” How’s he expected to notice anything when the jersey’s sleeves cover Draco’s hands so that his fingertips peek out?

Draco brushes Harry aside and enters their room. “Do not patronize me, Harry. If there is something wrong with me that I don’t know about then I expect you to tell me.”

“Alright, you’re a narcissist and a sociopath. You’re probably a psychopath, you’re paranoid”—Harry takes a deep breath—“and you make fun of the elderly.”

Draco’s mouth gapes. “Those are just quirks!” he cries. “Endearing quirks! I’m talking about something important! My appearance.”

He squares his shoulders and lifts his chin. The jersey’s collar slips off his shoulder, baring his bony collarbone. Harry’s brain short-circuits.

“Fine,” Harry says. “Your nose is too perfect, your knees have cute dimples, that one incisor is a tad crooked, and yes, there’s a spot on your forehead.” He takes a deep breath and exhales his heart back into his chest. “You’re a gorgeous quirky prat, and when you wear my clothes I want to snog you into next Tuesday. Can we go eat now?”

“AND NOW WE DO THE DANCE OF JOY,” Ron’s voice booms from the open door. He gives Harry a thumbs up from amidst the cluster of their friends.

“He told him,” Hermione says, hands clasped under her chin.

Pansy drapes her arm on Hermione’s shoulder. “Fucking finally.”

Draco stares. A blush blooms high on his cheekbones and bleeds upwards, overtaking the teeny red spot on his forehead.

“So you admit I have a spot,” Draco says. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Because I expect my boyfriend to tell me if there’s something amiss.”

Harry bites his smile. “I’ll tell you.”

“Just kiss already so we can go eat.” Greg presses his palms together in supplication. “Please.”

Harry snags the hem of his jersey and tugs Draco into his arms.

READ ON AO3